


as the desert sets me ablaze

by TheWriter2



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: First Kiss, Long-Haired Spock, M/M, Mutual Pining, Non-Graphic Violence, Pining, Political Intrigue, Pre-Reform Vulcan, Pre-Surak, Spies, Vulcan Culture, flirting via chess, i'chaya saves the day, lieutenant jim, not in the federation vulcan, technically, well it's really in the middle-of-reform-vulcan but who's got time to say all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24899668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriter2/pseuds/TheWriter2
Summary: Toral, Jim’s Andorian classmate, humored Jim’s curiosity about the Vulcans and told him all they had learned.The Vulcans were a private people. They had strong familial bonds and loyalty to one’s clan was paramount. Forty years ago, a young Vulcan uncovered the writings of his forefather and began to spread a message of peace.The warring factions came to an agreement and an era of peace spread across the desert planet.And now Jim was on his way to Vulcan.Surak's teachings don't take a hold in Vulcan society for over a hundred years. Now, new to peace, Vulcan is looking for admission to the Federation. But fear and stubborn hearts are digging their feet into the sand, threatening the fragile peace that has been created.Despite all that, this remains a love story.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Comments: 81
Kudos: 212





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by uglysockperson's [post](https://uglysockperson.tumblr.com/post/620405153250557952/acesexualspock-i-love-this-this-is-exactly-what)

Starfleet received the transmission two weeks ago. It was a message of peace and open arms. A request to be listened to and to listen to others. A request to be considered for a position in the Federation. 

The people in question--the Vulcans--had achieved warp capability many years ago. Terran ambassadors had extended a greeting to them when the Federation was beginning to take its first steps as a true governing body. But the Vulcans were in a period of unrest. Warring factions struggling to speak over the others. The invitation went unanswered for nearly one hundred years. 

Jim thought the Vulcans were fascinating. The Federation knew very little about them. Despite being warp capable, the Vulcans rarely traveled beyond their solar system. Only the Andorians seemed to be familiar with them at all. 

Toral, Jim’s Andorian classmate, humored Jim’s curiosity about the Vulcans and told him all they had learned. 

The Vulcans were a private people. 

They had strong familial bonds and loyalty to one’s clan was paramount. 

Forty years ago, a young Vulcan uncovered the writings of his forefather and began to spread a message of peace.

The warring factions came to an agreement and an era of peace spread across the desert planet. 

And now Jim was on his way to Vulcan. 

He watched from his station at the helm as the red planet grew closer on the view screen. His chest felt fuzzy and his face tingled. Something waited for him there. He knew it as well as he knew his own name. He turned from the view screen and shared a smile with the beta shift communications officer, Ensign Uhura. She had been just as excited as Jim was when news of this mission came through the channels. The two of them had formed a strong friendship exchanging stories they’d heard of Vulcan. He hoped they would both get the chance to see the surface and meet its people. 

His palms began to sweat. He was just a lieutenant. Beta shift helmsman. The captain might be an old friend and mentor, but Jim knew there were many more experienced officers who could and should be chosen to go dirt-side. 

Still, a part of his heart leapt at the thought that he was now so close to this place that had always seemed out of reach. 

* * *

The  _ Enterprise _ entered Vulcan’s orbit only an hour before the end of beta shift. Jim’s cheeks ached from the grin that had taken over his face. He could see the shifting sandclouds and the large rock formations of the planet from their orbit. 

It was finally real. 

“Captain on the bridge!” came Uhura’s call, shaking Jim from his thoughts. 

Captain Pike seemed to take up all the extra room on the bridge as he took a set in the captain’s chair. He flashed Jim a toothy smile as he called for status updates from the various bridge stations. 

Jim managed to stifle his excitement as he reported a steady orbit 20,000 kilometers above the planet’s surface. Pike turned to face the comms station. “Tell our friends we’re here, Miss Uhura.” 

Anxiety and excitement coil under Jim’s sternum as Uhura reports that she is establishing visual communications. The only pictures of the Vulcans Jim has seen are over fifty years old. The quality was grainy and Jim could never seem to find one clear enough to make out a true face. 

But he knows the Vulcans are a severely handsome race. Toral told him that if it wasn’t for the fact that Vulcan was a desert planet, half of Andoria’s population would have left for a Vulcan lover. 

The view screen flickers as Uhura secures the connection. Jim can scarcely tear his eyes away as the figures suddenly come into view. In the center stands a tall, graying Vulcan. His hair is cut short, allowing a multitude of gold piercings to catch the light. A dark, swirling tattoo peaks out of the collar of his robes. 

Two younger Vulcans stand at the man’s side. They both sport the same long dark hair that tumbles past their shoulders. Piercings decorate their pointed ears. The one on the right has paint covering half his face in intricate patterns that both intimidates and intrigues Jim. The one on the left stands still as stone. No paint or tattoos are visible on the skin outside his robes. Jim can hardly tear his eyes away when he catches sight of the Vulcan’s eyes--brown where the other two have a dark, all consuming blackish brown. Somehow softer than his companions. 

“Hello,” Captain Pike says, shaking Jim from his thoughts. “I am Captain Chistopher Pike. I have been sent on behalf of the Federation to assess your request to be admitted into our governing body.”

The center Vulcan raises a hand and spreads his fingers in what Jim assumes is a customary greeting. “Live long and prosper, Captain,” the Vulcan says. “I am Sarek, son of Skon of the House of Surak. I have been elected by my people to serve as an ambassador to your people.” He gestures to the two Vulcans at his side. “These are my sons and aids, Sybok of the House of T’Rana and Spock of the House of Surak.”

_ Spock _ . Jim turns the name over in his head as he watches the Vulcans raise their hands in the same gesture as their father. 

“We welcome you to Vulcan, Captain,” Sarek continues. “We are ready to welcome you and your party at our residence at your earliest convenience.”

Captain Pike grins. “Excellent. I believe my team and I will be ready to joining you planetside in--”

“Captain,” Uhura interrupts, one hand to her earpiece. Her brows are furrowed as she listens closely to the message that must be coming in. She returns her gaze to Pike, her face grave. “Captain, I’ve just received a high priority message from Starfleet Command. They say it's imperative that you hear it right away.” 

Pike turns back to Sarek and his sons. Before he can say anything, Sarek says, “Attend to you people, Captain. We will be here when you have finished.” And without waiting for an answer, the screen goes black before returning to the view of the desert planet. 

“Go ahead, Uhura,” Pike says after a beat. 

“There’s been an incident along the Romulan border, sir,” she reports. “Some freighters were attacked by Romulan pirates and are requesting a protection detail.” 

Pike frowns. “And they want us to go?”

Uhura nods. “We are the closest ship to their location, sir. Starfleet Command wants to deter any more attacks as soon as possible.”

Captain Pike sighs and rubs at his eyes. “We can’t just leave. The Vulcans are expecting to start talking with us.” 

The bridge sits silent for a few moments as Captain Pike considers the situation. Jim struggles to keep himself from tapping on his station. He’s a junior officer. He doesn’t have any say in the situation. But if he did . . . .

“Kirk.” Pike’s voice is steady. “You got top marks on all your diplomatic training at the Academy, correct?”

Jim blinks. “Yes, sir.” 

“And you know a fair amount already about our friends down there, that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

Pike hums and nods slowly. He meets Jim’s eyes. “I’m sending you down there,” he says. “You are to be our representative to these people until  _ Enterprise _ can return from the Romulan border. You will get to know these people and what they expect from the Federation.” 

Jim’s mouth dries. “Me, sir?”

Pike stares him down. “Yes, you. I’m going to need Number One while we’re so close to the Neutral Zone. You’re the next best choice.” 

He meets Uhura’s eyes briefly and she grins, offering a thumbs up. He takes a deep breath and addresses Captain Pike, “Very well, sir.” 

Pike smiles and claps his shoulder. Jim barely registers Pike’s orders to restore communications with Sarek. Jim’s head swims as he watches Sarek’s face return to the view screen. Pike explains the situation to the ambassador and Jim feels his thoughts clouding with anticipation and nerves at the prospect of spending time on Vulcan. A hand lands heavily on his shoulder and Jim blinks as Pike’s words rush into his ears. “I’ll be sending Lieutenant Kirk here to meet with you while we are away. He will listen to and document your requests so that our meetings may be expedited upon my return.”

Sarek’s attention turns to Jim. His eyes are cold and seem sharp under his severe eyebrows. He nods. “This is acceptable, Captain.” And his gaze moves away, taking with it an almost physical weight. Jim lets out a breath as the attention moves away from him. 

Or so he thought. He realizes, as Captain Pike and Ambassador Sarek continue to speak, that one of Sarek’s sons, Spock, is still watching him. A shiver runs down Jim’s spine as Spock’s intelligent eyes seem to read every thought on Jim’s face. The Vulcan’s gaze seems almost warm and Jim is struck by how handsome he is. He offers Spock a small smile. Spock immediately straightens and blinks. 

Jim swears the Vulcan turns a bit green as he looks away.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim packs as quickly as he can. He cringes at how few weather appropriate clothes he has and hopes Sarek will help him acquire something to wear that won’t cause him heatstroke the moment he looks outside. 

He rushes down to the transporter room as soon as he’s packed his last pair of underwear. His climb up the transporter pad is interrupted by the voice of an old friend.   
“Hold on a second, you corn-bred hick,” Doctor McCoy gripes as he rushes through the doors. “You can’t go down there without my personal brew.”

Jim frowns. “Brew? Bones, I can’t take alcohol with me.”

Bones laughs. “Not alcohol, you heathen.” He shoves hyposprays into his bag. “These are Tri-Ox. The planet’s atmosphere has a lower oxygen count than Earth. You’ll need to take one every morning while you’re down there.”

Jim eyes the week’s worth of hyposprays. “And on the off chance you guys are gone for longer than this will last?”

Bones sighs. “If that happens I suggest you refrain from any strenuous activity. No running, no long walks,  _ nada _ . Capeesh?”

“Got it,” Jim says. He resettles his things and chews his lip as he stares at his friend. “Stay safe out there, Bones.”

Bones huffs. “Me? You’re the one heading down to a mysterious planet.” His gaze softens. “Take care of yourself, Jim. I won’t be there to watch out for ya.” 

Jim grins. “Yeah, yeah. I got it, old man.”

Bones laughs and shoves him onto the transporter pad. Jim takes a deep breath and nods to the technician. “Energize.”

* * *

The first thing Jim realizes is that he severely underestimated the heat. Sweat seems to immediately pool under his arms and the small of his back. Sand sticks to his skin and Jim’s first thought of Vulcan is  _ fuck. _

The second thing he realizes is that the ambassador’s house is gorgeous. The walls sweep up into the rockface with graceful curves. The whole thing seems to be a geometric masterpiece. 

Jim looks around the garden he has beamed into. He wishes his friends in the botany division could see the amount of diverse plant life that is spread out around him. 

He is startled from his observations by a voice. “Lieutenant Kirk?” Jim turns to find Sarek’s son, Spock, standing at the doorway to the house. In person, Jim realizes Spock is tall. He holds himself at his full height, just under a head taller than Jim, his imposing form broken up by the soft locks of his long hair. And his eyes--Jim feels his heart stutter at the light behind those eyes. 

Spock raises a hand in the same gesture he and his father used to greet Captain Pike. “I welcome you to my father’s house, Lieutenant Kirk,” he says. “My father and brother have been detained informing the Council of these recent developments and are unable to offer their greetings until first meal tomorrow.”

Jim nods. “Of course. I understand. I’m thankful for his understanding regarding this whole situation.”

They stand in silence for a moment, seemingly caught at an impasse as they observe one another. Spock breaks the silence by clearing his throat. Jim blinks and shifts in the warm sand, unsure how to proceed. 

Spock clears his throat again. “If you would not mind, Lieutenant, there are customs a visitor is expected to observe upon arrival,” he says. 

“Oh! Of course,” Jim squeaks. “What should I do?”

“Please, step forward,” Spock says, gesturing to the ground in front of him. Jim steps closer and drops to one knee under Spock’s instruction. “To enter a household of an unrelated clan, a visitor must offer a gesture of good faith,” Spock explains. 

Jim chews on his lip. “What kind of gesture?”

“A memory,” Spock says. “We are a telepathic race. You must hold a memory in your mind that proves your goodwill. I will touch your meld points and perform a shallow meld that will allow me to see the memory you present.” Spock meets his eyes and Jim feels his heart stutter as he realizes how full of life they are. Something in Spock’s face shifts and he seems to soften before Jim’s eyes. “I understand,” he says softly, as though he were wary of someone over hearing them, “if you are uncomfortable with this. I will not subject you to something that will bring you discomfort. We may simply appear to observe the customary--”

“No!” Jim says suddenly, surprising them both. “I want to do this the right way. I, uh, I’m ready when you are.” 

Spock watches him for a moment before he nods. He reaches out a hand and places his fingers on Jim’s chin, cheek, and temple. Jim watches, entranced, as Spock closes his eyes and says, “Your mind to my mind, your thoughts to my thoughts.” 

Jim thought he’d be prepared for what this would feel like, but when Spock’s mind touches his, Jim feels like the entire world has opened up before him. He struggles to stay focused as a multitude of sensations rush past him. He calls up his memory and pushes it clumsily toward what he thinks is Spock. 

The memory unfurls before them, light and laughter bathing them in warmth. Jim can feel Spock watching curiously as a different Jim, one who is only twelve, runs up to his father. George Kirk pulls Jim into his lap and shows him how to use their antique telescope to peer into the vastness of the universe. 

“I wanna go up there someday,” the little Jim says to his dad, face pulled into a smile that’s all dimples and youthful freckles. “There’s someone waiting for me up there, Dad, and I’m going to find them.”

A sensation of calmness washes over Jim as he feels Spock pull away from his mind. His awareness returns to the garden and he cringes as his eyes readjust to the warm Vulcan sunlight. As he looks up into Spock’s eyes again, Jim swears the sunlight is making him glow. 

Spock gives him a small smile. “Thank you, Lieutenant, for observing our customs,” he says. He extends an arm behind him. “Please, come inside.” 

Jim smiles and follows Spock inside. He tries not to gape at the magnificently high ceilings that hold the roof above the main living space. He admires the low couches and tables spaced around the room. Circular hallways appear to lead deeper into the rockface. A Vulcan woman darts out of one of the hallways and bows curtly to Spock. 

“This is T’Lai,” he says. “She helps manage my father’s home. She will take your things to your room.” Jim smiles at her and watches as she whisks his things away on bare feet, the only sound of her retreat the gentle chime of her gold anklets. “This way, please,” Spock says. “My mother has prepared end meal for us.” 

He follows Spock across the main room and into the rockface. “Does your home reflect typical Vulcan architecture?” Jim asks as they enter a small dining area. 

Spock shakes his head. “No, my father had this home built for my mother’s comfort. Most of the rooms lie within the rock, keeping the majority of the desert’s heat out.”

“Quite ironic that your mother seems to dislike the heat while living on a desert planet,” Jim muses. 

Spock gives him a sharp look before his expression smooths again. “She has little choice over the matter,” he says, his tone edging towards some unnamed emotion. “Her biology keeps her from enjoying our planet to its fullest potential at times. Sit here, please.”

Jim frowns as he takes his seat. “Her biology?”

“Are you telling our guest stories about me, Spock?” a woman’s voice interrupts their conversation. Jim turns to see an older woman enter the room. Her hair is hidden by a dark blue headscarf, but her eyes shine as she smiles at them. Her robes brush against the back of Jim’s seat as she sweeps around the table to set down the various plates of food. She stops and rests a hand on the back of Jim’s chair and smiles warmly at him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says amicably, extending a hand. “My name is Amanda. I’m Spock’s mother.”

“Amanda?” Jim says as he shakes her hand. “That--why, that’s a Terran name, isn’t it?”

Amanda laughs, her voice bright and warm. “It is indeed!” she says as she takes her seat. “I’m human. Born and raised in North America, if you can believe it.”

Jim lets out an incredulous laugh. “I hope you don’t mind me asking ma’am, but how did you come to live on Vulcan?”

“Why I met my husband, of course,” Amanda answers, a teasing smile on her face. “Now, let’s not let this food get cold. I’ve prepared some of my best dishes.” With all the ease and care that motherhood gives, Amanda proceeds to pile a plate high with a tasting from every dish set out on the table before setting it down in front of Jim. 

* * *

After a relatively quiet and pleasant meal, Jim follows Spock through the winding hallways to his room. Spock had remained quiet throughout the meal, seemingly content to allow Jim and Amanda to carry the small talk. But Jim would often catch Spock watching him--his gaze lingering for just too long after Jim finished saying something. 

Jim studies the outline of Spock’s shoulders. He moves so quietly along the stone corridors with a grace Jim has rarely seen in any other individual. 

And Jim has to admit he’s also guilty of lingering glances over dinner. 

Spock comes to a stop near the end of the hall. A small window offers a peek into the desert at the end of the hall, revealing a rapidly lowering dual sunset. Spock pushes open the simple wooden door to reveal a modest sleeping area. 

“This is where you will be staying,” Spock says softly. “Traditionally, guests serve the first meal, but my father has instructed me to inform you that you will not be held to that expectation.” 

Despite the tea served at dinner, Jim’s mouth grows dry. 

Spock shifts on his feet, seeming to be just as unsure as Jim. “You will find a bathroom en-suite,” he says, folding his hands into his robes. “If you find yourself in need of anything, my rooms are across the hall.” 

“Thank you again,” Jim says hurriedly, “for your hospitality.” 

Spock watches him again. A shiver runs down Jim’s body in spite of the sweat making his skin feel increasingly sticky. Inclining his head, Spock says, “Sleep well, Lieutenant.” 

As Jim lies on top of the blankets that night, sweat cooling and drying in the night air, he wonders just what he has gotten himself into. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out with my on tumblr at acesexualspock 
> 
> see you next week for some bonding ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to some sweet, sweet pining that neither realize is pining yet

Ambassador Sarek has breakfast ready by the time Jim figures his way through the twisting hallways. Amanda smiles brightly at him and Spock nods at him slowly. Sarek and his older son, Sybok, sit at the head of the table. Amanda is at their left and Spock on her other side. T’Lai motions for him to sit across from Spock. 

“I welcome you to my table, Lieutenant Kirk,” Sarek says, his voice kinder in person. 

Jim smiles at him. “Thank you for having me,” he says. He throws a glance at Spock before continuing. “Your son told me about your traditions and I offer my apologies that I am unable to follow them.” 

Sarek offers him an approximation of a smile. “Your apologies are appreciated but unnecessary. It is I who should thank you for undertaking this task.” 

“Don’t worry, Ambassador,” Jim says, piling  _ kalafruit _ onto his plate. “I’ve always wanted to visit Vulcan. This is what we call a win-win situation.”

“What made you want to visit Vulcan?” Sybok asks. 

For a moment, Jim feels unnerved by the sharp look in Sybok’s eyes. The Vulcan holds himself impossibly still, even as he brings his food to his mouth.  _ Like a predator, _ Jim realizes and remembers the stories Toral had told him of the legendary and deadly Vulcan warriors that defeated Andorian forces in battle after battle. 

Jim chews on a piece of fruit and feints thinking about his answer as he takes a moment to calm himself. Finally, he says, “I’m not sure I can narrow it down to a few reasons. I’ve just always felt drawn here every time the planet was mentioned.”

Sybok huffs a laugh. Jim stares down at his plate, feeling his cheeks grow warm at his foolishness. Why couldn’t he have just made something up?

“Fascinating.” The small voice is Spock, who is watching him, eyes so terribly and achingly open. Something stutters in Jim’s chest and he trains his eyes on his plate, distracting himself in the mechanical rhythm of spearing  _ kalafruit _ with his utensil and lifting it to his mouth. 

Ambassador Sarek and Sybok finish their meal and stand from the table, startling Jim from his thoughts. “I must go,” Sarek says to him. “I am expected at a meeting. I leave Spock here to discuss matters of the Federation during my absence.” Sarek extends two fingers to Amanda which she meets with two of her own. “Good day, wife.” 

“Good day, husband,” Amanda replies, a smile brightening her face as she watches her husband and Sybok leave. 

Spock stands from his seat. “I will wait for you to finish your meal in the study,” he says to Jim. He turns his gaze to T’Lai. “See him there when he has finished his meal.” He offers his mother a small bow before sweeping from the room. 

Jim sighs and sinks down in his chair, pushing around the rest of his breakfast. He looks up in time to see Amanda hide her smile behind a cup of tea. “I haven’t made some sort of terrible social blunder, have I?” he asks her, unable to keep any of his creeping despair from his voice.

Amanda laughs for real this time. “No, nothing like that,” she says. “My son is just,” she pauses, as if searching for the right thing to say. “He can be a little awkward around those he wishes to impress is all.”

“He hardly has to do much to impress me,” Jim says, sipping at his own tea. 

The room grows quiet again as Amanda drinks more of her tea and Jim finishes his meal. As he gets up, Amanda says, “Treat him well. Do that for me, Mr. Kirk.”

Something about her words makes Jim stop. He studies her gently heartbroken face and wonders what she’s seen in him. 

“Always, ma’am,” he says simply. He tips his head to her and motions for T’Lai to lead the way through the twisting corridors. 

* * *

“And so concludes the list of reasons why Vulcan’s admittance to the Federation will be mutually beneficial to all parties involved,” Spock pauses for perhaps the first time in his presentation and tilts his head to the side. “I believe you used the human term for the situation this morning, Lieutenant Kirk. It is a ‘win-win situation.’”

Jim grins as he finishes the last of his notes. The past hour has made him feel like he was back at the Academy again, listening to Spock speak and taking rapid notes that he will be able to refer to later. Though he has to give Spock some credit, he explained his points more clearly and succinctly than most of his professors at the Academy did. Over their past hour together, Jim has watched Spock relax. He seemed to grow more comfortable in Jim’s presence. He even seemed to grow wistful as he spoke of the potential scientific contributions Vulcan’s dedicated scientists could offer the Federation. 

He looks up and finds Spock watching him expectantly. He quickly remembers that he is not in a lecture and Spock is probably expecting some sort of response. Jim taps his stylus on the table and smiles. “These are all wonderful and logical points, Mr. Spock,” he says. “I’m sure your people will have little problems continuing the process to join the Federation.”

Spock inclines his head. “I appreciate your compliments and acknowledge that you are not in a position to debate these points on behalf of your government.” 

Jim’s smile stutters even though he sure Spock doesn’t mean his words to hurt. But they do. Jim has always wished he could do more. He rubs the back of his neck and laughs, short and breathless. “I can’t argue with you there.”

“I have made you uncomfortable,” Spock says suddenly, taking the seat in front of Jim. 

“What?”

Spock rests his hands on the table. “Your body language suggests I have done or have said something to make you feel uncomfortable. I would like to know what I may do to rectify this.”

“Oh.” Jim isn’t sure how to respond. On the one hand, Spock is being pretty sweet trying to figure out where their social blunder is and how to fix it. On the other, Jim isn’t sure how comfortable he is risking emotionally dumping onto someone who is still a complete stranger. 

The shuffle of Spock’s robes brings Jim out of his thoughts. “I have made the situation worse, I believe,” Spock says, and the downcast expression on his face tugs violently at Jim’s chest. 

“No, no!” Jim says quickly. “I just--this is all new, to both of us. I think we can forgive ourselves for the occasional stumble.” 

Spock’s face relaxes as he nods. “I agree.” 

Jim smiles and leans back in his seat. He allows a somber mood to overshadow him for a moment. “I just wish I could be doing more is all,” he says softly. 

“What do you mean?” Spock asks gently, leaning forward. 

Sighing, Jim explains. “It’s like you said. I’m here listening to all this stuff you and your dad have helped plan for your people, but at the end of the day I’m not really doing anything. I’m just sitting here, waiting for someone who can actually  _ do  _ something to show up.” He combs a hand through his hair roughly. Bones always warns him if he does it enough his hair will never sit flat again. 

“I’m just a lieutenant,” Jim continues. “There’s so much I can’t do to help people because I’m still subject to the orders of my superiors.” He shakes his head. “There are people who are suffering that can’t wait for me to convince the captain to get help and there’s nothing I can do for them.” 

“Why do you feel this personal responsibility to protect those around you?” Spock asks. 

Jim can’t seem to fault him for bringing out some heavy questions. Not after Jim started dumping his stuff on the poor guy. He pushes away the dark memories that whisper to him with all this talk of his shortcomings. He settles for shrugging and saying, “If I don’t do it, who will?”

Spock doesn’t speak for long enough that Jim begins to grow nervous. But before he can blurt out something stupid, Spock says, “I have not known you very long, Lieutenant Kirk, but I believe I have seen enough to make a suitable judge of your character.” His gaze is fire as he seems to pin Jim to his seat. “I have found you to be a man of impeccable character. It is not in your nature to act out of malice. I believe you will make a fine starship captain one day.” 

If Jim blushes like a schoolgirl, well, he blames it on the rush of heat the rising sun poured down on the desert. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is that a hint of a plot i see?

There’s isn’t much more for Jim to do as they wait for the  _ Enterprise _ to return from the Romulan border. He finds himself wandering out into the garden after dinner, the rapidly cooling desert air bathing him in a sense of calm. He takes a seat under the lone tree in the garden and watches the twin suns dip under the distant rock formations. 

“T’Khut will rise in the north shortly.” Spock’s voice is gentle but still startles Jim from his reverie. 

He smiles as Spock stops to stand next to him. “T’Khut?”

“T’Khut is our closest planetary neighbor,” Spock explains. “The name means The Watcher. Our legends say that during the formation of our world, T’Khut and Vulcan saw the bonds our suns shared and formed their own, tying themselves to each other. Vulcan cared for their children as T’Khut watched from afar to protect their clan.” 

“That’s sweet,” Jim says softly, watching Vulcan’s sister planet rise where Spock said it would. “Most of the myths I’ve heard on Earth are pretty gruesome.”

He swears Spock seems to smile. They watch T’Khut rise in the sky, listening to the sounds of the desert waking up after long, dry hours in the sun. 

“How long do you expect your ship to be away?” Spock asks suddenly, his eyes still glued to the horizon. 

Jim shrugs, pulling at the valiant blades of Vulcan grass that seek shelter under the tree. “Could be a week or two if nothing goes wrong,” he says absently. 

“And if something does go wrong?” Spock asks gently. 

“Hard to say,” Jim says softly. He fiddles with the grass for a moment longer before raising a few blades to his mouth and- _ -SWQUAK! _

Spock jumps and Jim can’t help it--he begins laughing so hard his sides ache. He isn’t sure how long it's been since he laughed like this. His life recently has been so serious--focusing on the Academy and then on getting placed on the  _ Enterprise _ . Sometimes he forgets he’s only 25. 

“How did you make that noise?” Spock asks as Jim’s laugh calms into a chuckle. 

Jim waves the blades of grass around. “The ancient art of the duck whistle. I’m surprised Amanda never taught it to you.” 

The hint of a smile that flashes across Spock’s face has something stuttering in Jim’s chest. They can’t seem to take their eyes away from each other and Jim wonders how it could be fair that Spock is this gorgeous. The last of the day’s light is dancing across Spock’s cheekbones, highlighting each bright glimmer in his eyes. Jim could drown in his image. 

Somewhere in the desert, an animal cries. 

Spock’s expression shutters, startling Jim from his blatant staring. “We must head inside,” Spock says. “The le’matya grow bold after the sun sets.” 

Jim stands, brushing off the sand that clings to his pants. He gestures to the house. “Lead the way.” 

They pad across the cool stone of the house, night quickly following them inside. Jim smiles at T'Lai as she passes them on her way out for the night. Spock leads them through the hallways and Jim feels himself grow calm again as the sounds of Vulcan’s night come to life. 

“We must be careful, Father, or the clans will turn against us.”

Jim’s feet still. They are standing in front of Sarek’s study, the shadows under the barely open door warning Jim against even breathing too loudly. He looks up slowly and finds Spock still as well, listening just as intently as Jim.

Sarek’s voice comes flat and cool where Sybok was hot with anger. “The clans are simply wary that joining the Federation may harm our way of life. Once Captain Pike returns, their worries will be soothed.”

Sybok growls and his shadow paces on the other side of the door. “There are forces at work, Father. Those who would wish to see your house fall.”

“You worry of sabotage, my son?” Sarek asks.

“I simply advise caution. It may be wise to speak to Spock about T’Pring again,” Sybok says. “A marriage between our clans will be beneficial should anything go awry.”

Jim casts a glance at Spock who has gone still, face worryingly pale in the darkness. 

“Spock has already made it clear that he does not find a bond with T’Pring to be logical or desirable,” Sarek replied. “I will not force him into this.”

“Did you not teach us,” Sybok replies, his voice low and sharp, “that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? Or was our forefather mistaken?”

Spock turns swiftly and nearly sprints down the corridor. Jim barely restrains himself from calling after him. He takes a step forward, stopping when he hears Sarek respond, his voice hot and dangerous, “I will not have you lecturing me on such matters, Sybok. We do not require a marriage to create an alliance. The matter is closed.”

Sybok groans, his shadow coming closer to the door. Heart hammering in his throat, Jim takes off as quietly as he can. 

* * *

Jim wants nothing more than to talk to Spock. But Sarek monopolized his morning with talk of Federation policies and by the time Jim stumbled out of Sarek’s study for lunch, Spock had reportedly already left to complete an errand in the city. 

After finishing his meal and wrestling a book from his bags, Jim settles himself in the soft couches of Sarek’s living room. He is determined to enjoy his afternoon. He will not waste it thinking about Spock and his pretty face and how his smile softened his features and how scared Spock had looked at the possibility that his father might force him into an arranged marriage. 

Lost as he is in his thoughts, it’s not hard for Amanda to startle him when she says, “Watching the door won’t make him come home any sooner.” 

Jim stares at her, his eyes owlish as he sputters, “I--What? I was just thinking. I’m not--”

Amanda laughs. “It’s alright, Jim,” she says, patting him on the shoulder. “Just be kind to him for me, alright?” Before he can even begin to process Amanda’s words, she disappears deeper into the house. 

He fiddles with the pages of his book. If he thought he was struggling to focus before his efforts are doubly futile now. He has to admit to himself that there is no escaping his thoughts of Spock. He just wants to talk to the guy, ask him about the danger Sybok mentioned the night before. Maybe ask him how he feels about this T’Pring figure. Definitely reassure him that Sarek made it clear to Sybok that he would not be forcing anything upon Spock. 

The front door shutters open, the warm desert air bathing Jim in a fine coat of sand. He looks up and his heart leaps into his throat at the sight of Spock slipping into the house. Spock stills at the sight of him, too many emotions flickering across his face for Jim to name. Schooling his features into a neutral mask, Spock nods at him before gliding across the room. He’s nearly out of the room by the time Jim’s body catches up with his mind. “Spock!” he calls. 

Spock stills in the threshold of the hallway. 

Jim stands clumsily and takes a few heavy steps towards him. “Spock, can we talk?” he asks. 

“Not here,” Spock replies tersely, his eyes surveying the room. 

They slip into Spock’s room. Jim barely gets a chance to take in the room before Spock begins to speak. “I have spoken to those I trust about the situation we overheard last night and I am afraid my brother’s fears are warranted. There are clans that fear joining the Federation will disrupt our way of life.” Spock sits down heavily and steeples his fingers. “We Vulcans live long lives. Our elders have seen much change in these past decades and now they fear losing everything familiar to them.”

Jim sits down across from Spock. “What do you mean?”

Spock studies him for a moment. On the surface, his face is clear of worry and restlessness. But when Jim looks into Spock’s eyes, he seems to know just how much turmoil the Vulcan is feeling. 

“Forty years ago,” Spock begins, “my people were locked in a bitter war fed by years of mistrust and passion. We nearly destroyed ourselves.” Spock takes a breath and leans back in his seat. “Then my father discovered the writings of our forefather, Surak. He wrote of peace and control of our baser instincts. He taught that there was logic in the world and that if we were to survive, we must apply it to ourselves.

“Sarek brought these teachings to the clans. When the elders saw how one of their most venerated warriors was championing peace, they let him speak to them as few Vulcans have. He used the teachings of Surak to make the elders see reason and bring an end to their futile war.” Jim listens, enraptured at this version of Sarek he only barely knew. 

Spock continues, “Surak’s teachings have spread throughout our lands. Vulcan warriors have learned to take control of their emotions and use logic before their weapons. Children have been raised to use their minds before their emotions, never knowing how violence can bring their blood to a boil.

“The Vulcan that is still resembles the Vulcan that was, but our elders have seen the amount of change that the people have undergone in under a century and fear that if we allow the Federation into our midst, our old way of life will be lost.” 

Jim shakes his head. “The Federation doesn’t interfere with native cultures,” he says. “I mean, there will be an investigation to evaluate the conditions of living here, but I haven’t seen anything that would raise any red flags.” 

Spock nods. “I am aware. As are the elders. But they still fear, regardless of what reassurances my father gives them.”

“Is there any danger to worry about?” Jim asks, his insides beginning to tangle. He can’t let his friends--his captain--walk into something that could harm them.”

“I am unsure,” Spock says. “But I assure you that you are safe within our house, Lieutenant Kirk.”

Jim smiles. “Thanks, but it’s not just me I’m worried about.”

Spock nods. “I doubt there will be action against your captain when he returns. Only a fool would instigate violence against a foreign force that easily outnumbers us. Especially when our own forces are divided on the matter.”

“And you and your dad?” Jim asks softly. “Will you guys be ok?”

Surprise flashes across Spock’s face. “I am not sure.”

Jim taps the table as he stands. “Well,” he says, “I assure you that you’re just as safe with me as I am with you.” He winks at Spock, delighted at the green flush that rises to the Vulcan’s cheeks. “I’ve grown rather fond of you all. I’d hate for something to happen when I can do something to prevent it.”

He’s nearly at the door when he turns, the sudden movement tugging Spock’s gaze up from the tabletop. Jim rubs the back of his neck. “I just wanted to say,” he begins awkwardly, “that last night I, uh, well I heard your dad tell Sybok something about the marriage.” Spock’s expression seems to distance and Jim is quick to continue, “Your dad made it clear to your brother that he wouldn’t force you into that.” 

Spock’s gaze is so open. Vulnerable and just begging for Jim to come closer and count the faint freckles he swears dot the Vulcan’s nose. “I just,” he says, breathless, “I just thought you should know.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> buckle up yall were getting good and gay in these next couple of chapters before some plot comes in ;)

Despite the looming threat that something terrible could happen to his hosts, the next couple days pass by relatively quietly. 

Yesterday, Jim received news from the  _ Enterprise _ that they had successfully completed their three day journey to the Romulan border. Uhura reported that they were looking at a week-long journey with the freighter to its destination. Barring any other emergencies, she assures him that the ship will be back at Vulcan in ten days. 

Jim knows he should feel relieved that his stay on Vulcan will be over soon. God knows he isn’t exactly ready to deal with the high pressure situation of a potential civil war exploding because of his presence on the planet. But despite the fact that Sarek assured him they had prepared enough for Pike’s return, Jim felt like there was still something he had to do. Something that if he left Vulcan without doing, his life would never be the same.

Besides, Bones only sent him with a week’s worth of tri-ox so he needs to make the next four days count. 

This is why, when the suns have begun to set, Jim gets T’Lai to help him find Spock in the labyrinth of Sarek’s home. When they find him, Spock stares with wide eyes as Jim requests (he likes to believe his diplomatic training prevents him from sounding demanding) that Spock take him into town and show him how the everyday Vulcan lives. 

“I am not sure that would be wise, Lieutenant,” Spock says. “If those opposed to my father’s actions were to learn of your presence, they may seek to harm you.” 

Jim huffs. “It’s getting dark, Spock. I’ll wear some robes. I doubt anyone who’ll be out will be looking at my ears.” 

Spock’s expression doesn’t change but Jim can tell he’s frowning at him. “Vulcans have superior low-light vision. Even without ‘looking for’ your physical differences, someone could notice.” 

Glancing around the room, Jim snags a piece of fabric and drapes it over his head, mimicking the style he’s seen Amanda wear. “There,” he grins. “I’m practically invisible.” 

Spock sighs. “You seem rather set on this.” 

Jim laughs. “I am.” 

“And I take it you will find a way to go even if I do not accompany you.” 

“Look how well we know each other already,” Jim crows. 

Spock’s look of resignation sends sparks shooting through Jim’s limbs. “Very well,” Spock gives in, “let us go.” 

Spock takes Jim to the capital of Vulcan, ShiKhar, on the back of Spock’s personal air bike. Jim nearly squeals with glee at the familiar sight of a motorcycle and barely stands still long enough for Spock to secure a helmet over Jim’s shawl. They depart, Jim hands tangled in the soft fabric of Spock’s robes and his face tickled by the rebel strands of Spock’s long hair. 

They coast past the various houses and businesses until they reach the city center. Here the streets are crowded with robbed Vulcans and music floats through the air as festivities take place. 

Stopping his bike near the edge of the crowd, Jim watches Spock remove his helmet and take in the crowd with wide eyes. “I nearly forgot,” Spock says absently. “Today is _Ha’ge Gad-Muf_ , the Festival of Light.”

“What’s that?” Jim asks, shaking his shawl free of the helmet. 

“The celebration marks the beginning of the rainy season,” Spock explains, leading Jim through the crowds. “We bid goodbye to the light as the next few weeks will see the sky covered in storm clouds.”

A group of squealing kids rush past them, darting from stall to stall. Jim grins as he takes in the joy and excitement around him. The lights shimmer off of the various piercings and jewelry the Vulcans wear. All around them, people laugh and music curls over the air. The smell of food hugs Jim’s senses. Inspired by the mirth around him, Jim grabs Spock’s wrist and tugs him from stall to stall, pointing excitedly at the spinning tops and stuffed animal prizes the children watched with eager eyes. Spock easily wins a stuffed creature he calls a sehlat for one of the children watching them play. Jim’s chest warms as Spock smiles at the child. 

They drift through the festival. Before long Jim’s hands and mouth are sticky with the treats and fruits he and Spock have tried. They stumble upon the musicians and a large group of Vulcans dancing, their anklets adding to the rhythm of the music. Jim turns to Spock and grins. “Teach me to dance?” he asks. 

For a moment, Jim is afraid Spock will say no. Then Spock’s expression softens and he inclines his head. “Of course, Mr. Kirk.”

Jim laughs again. “It’s Jim, please. I’m about to step all over your toes.” 

He swears there’s laughter in Spock’s eyes as he leads Jim onto the dance floor. Spock instructs him to place his forearm against Spock’s and allow him to lead. Before long, they are floating through the steps of the dance. Jim laughs again, elated and taken in by the joy that seems to perfume the air. 

He isn’t sure how many songs they’ve danced to when he catches Spock watching him. Jim’s heart stutters. Spock is looking at him with this expression on his face that--well, Jim wants to call it fondness. 

Under the warm lights of the festival, Spock seems aglow. The barest of shadows dance across his cheekbones as his eyes glitter like stars. 

He’s the most beautiful thing Jim has ever seen--all quiet joy and easy kindness.

Jim has always known he was meant to soar among the stars. But watching Spock lead them through their dance, so at ease and so, so beautiful in his happiness--well Jim wonders if there could be something worth giving up the stars for. 

* * *

They stumble into Sarek’s house late that night. Jim feels like a teenager again, giggling and shushing Spock as they shuffle through the hallways. All too soon they come upon the end of their hallway. Jim smiles as he turns to Spock. “Thank you for taking me tonight. I enjoyed it a lot.” 

Spock nods. “It was my pleasure, Jim.” 

The way he says Jim’s name sends shivers down his spine. 

Jim reaches out and squeezes Spock’s bicep. “Still, I appreciate it.”

Spock reaches into his robes suddenly. Nerves flash across his features and Jim feels his stomach flip. In his hand, Spock reveals a delicate gold anklet. “For you,” he says quietly, “to remember this night.”

Taking the anklet carefully, Jim can hardly breathe as he takes in the intricately engraved calligraphy and flowers. “Oh, Spock,” he breathes, “it’s beautiful. Thank you.”

He looks up and their eyes meet. Time seems to stop as Jim quickly drowns in Spock’s warm brown eyes. Slowly, as though everything were in slow motion, Spock raises a hand to Jim’s face. For a moment, he wonders if Spock is going to kiss him. His eyes dart to Spock’s lips and he lets himself dream for a moment of what it would be like to step forward and press his lips against those.

Then Spock unwraps the shawl from around Jim’s head and tucks the fabric into his robe. Jim blinks, the world coming into focus again. 

“Good night, Jim,” Spock says softly. 

Jim clutches the anklet tightly, anchoring himself in the knowledge that he didn’t completely imagine tonight. “Good night, Spock.” 

As he tries to fall asleep that night, Jim feels helpless to stop his heart from pounding in his ears. He stares at the anklet still in his grasp and feels a grin spread across his lips. 

He’s always fallen in love easily, but this time it feels different. 


	6. Chapter 6

For once Jim is glad Bones isn’t here to witness what he is going through. Normally he longs for his best friend’s advice, but when Spock meets Jim’s eyes across the breakfast table, his gaze warm and sending shivers throughout Jim’s body, Jim is glad Bones isn’t here to tease him. 

The anklet rests against Jim’s ankle, a welcome reminder that their night at the festival was not a dream. 

Jim tries to ignore Amanda’s delighted smile as she notices how Jim and Spock are sneaking glances at each other. She catches him by this arm in the hallway after breakfast. “I see you’re wearing an anklet, Mr. Kirk,” she says softly. 

“Yes, Spock gave it to me,” he answers, unsure why this conversation needs to be discreet. 

Amanda smiles at T’Lai as she carries plates from the dining room. When she rounds the corner, Amanda says softly, “Vulcans give the subject of their admiration anklets as a symbol of their interest. It’s tradition to wear the anklet as a sign of your mutual regard.” She lifts the hem of her robes and shows Jim her own anklet. “I didn’t know why Sarek gave me mine either.”

For a moment, Jim feels his emotions catch in his throat. He swallows thickly and says quietly, “What do I do now?”

Amanda’s smile is sly. “He is courting you. You need to let him make the next move.” Jim nods and wonders if this is all a dream. “Come,” Amanda says, laughter curling around her words, “Spock will wonder what we’re gossiping about if we stay any longer.” She leads him into the living room where Spock is waiting for them. 

“Jim,” Spock says as they enter the room. His voice is low and gentle and Jim is beginning to think he will never tire of hearing that voice, “do you play chess?”

He smiles brightly, putting his conversation with Amanda aside in favor of the fondness he feels for Spock. “I do! Did Amanda teach you?” 

Spock nods. “She taught my father and I. Would you be interested in playing a game?”

“Of course,” Jim replies, watching as Spock’s lips almost form a smile. 

Before long, the board is set up on the table between them. “You may play white,” Spock says.

Jim grins. “I get the feeling I should accept any advantage you grant me.” 

He doesn't exactly smirk, but Spock’s expression is undoubtedly playful as he says, “I will certainly not dispute that claim.” They seem to get caught in each other for a moment, infinities stretching on behind their eyes, before Jim clears his throat and moves his first pawn. 

From then on, their match passes in silence. Their pieces dance across the board as they fall quickly into the rhythm of game. The game is close but Spock soon corners Jim’s king and the game comes to an end. Jim leans back in his chair and smiles widely. “Unsurprisingly, you are a very formidable opponent, Spock,” he says brightly. 

Spock inclines his head. “You are also a very adept player, Jim.” 

For a moment, Jim can only watch as Spock resets the board, his long fingers moving the pieces with graceful precision. “Shall we play again?” he finds himself asking. 

Spock looks up at him suddenly and a smile shines from his eyes, nearly blinding Jim. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Their second match lasts longer. They consider their moves with more gravity, both refusing to let the other gain an inch. At some point, Jim needs to stretch his legs as he waits for Spock to make his move. He allows his limbs to extend under the table and nearly chokes on himself as his feet brush against Spock’s leg. Jim looks up at Spock, worried for a moment that he would say something. But Spock keeps his gaze on the board. Under the table, Spock’s leg presses back into Jim’s softly. 

He nearly misses Spock’s move as his heart stutters in his chest. 

* * *

“Spock,” Amanda says as the three of them sit in the living room together, “have you introduced Jim to I’Chaya?”

Jim looks up from his translated copy of Surak’s teachings, curious as to how Spock will respond. 

“I have not,” Spock replies, setting down his rapidly cooling cup of tea. 

Amanda grins, delight animating her face. “Oh, you should!” She turns to Jim and he catches the mischief behind her expression. “You would get along swimmingly with I’Chaya. I’m sure you’d be fast friends.” 

Jim smiles and allows his confusion to color his face. He turns to Spock for an explanation. Spock sighs. “I’Chaya is our sehlat.”

“Sehlat?” Jim asks, setting his reading down on the table. 

Spock nods. “My mother has often said the species resembles a cross between terran bears and wild cats.” 

“But they are terribly sweet creatures,” Amanda reassures. “I’Chaya has been in our family before Spock was born. Sarek speaks of him well.” 

“Would you like to meet him?” Spock asks. 

Jim grins. “I would.” 

Spock leads him out into the steady Vulcan afternoon, the air heavy and dry. T’Lai slips back into the house past them, smiling in response to Jim’s greeting. They pick through Amanda’s lavish garden until they come across a small cave in the side of the rock face. Jim follows Spock under the lip of the cave and waits as Spock calls for the sehlat. 

They don’t have to wait very long. A large mountain of brown fur comes tumbling out of the cave and barrels into Spock. Jim’s eyes widen as he takes in the long sabered teeth of the excited creature. Spock calms down the sehlat. “Offer him your hand, Jim,” he explains. 

I’Chaya sniffs at Jim’s hand, shoving his head under Jim’s palm after a moment of examination. Jim smiles and feels a chuckle bubble in his chest as he rubs behind I’Chaya’s ears. 

Spock shows Jim how to play with I’Chaya. As he grows more confident, Jim allows I’Chaya to get more excited as they play. Before long, they’re roughhousing and Jim is taken by surprise when I’Chaya tackles him to the sand. Incredulously, Jim looks up at Spock. 

The view that greets him is otherworldly. 

Spock’s cheeks are flushed as he grips his abdomen. His face is gracefully folded into laughter and Jim feels drunk as the sounds of Spock’s laugh intoxicate his senses.

He’s the most beautiful thing Jim has ever seen. 

* * *

Spock stops him outside his room that night after dinner. In the dim light of the hallway, Jim thinks he looks like something out of a painting. The little light reflected by T’Khut catches in the rebellious strands of Spock’s hair that dance in the barest of desert breezes that sneaks in through the window. 

“Jim,” Spock says softly, as though he is afraid of anyone hearing his words. “Jim, may I kiss you?”

Every nerve in Jim’s body is alight as his heart seems to stop in his chest. Breathlessly, he says, “Yes, please do.” 

A small smile softens Spock face. Jim swears that time seems to slow as Spock steps ever closer. “For my people,” he whispers, “we kiss with our hands.” 

“Show me,” Jim breathes. 

Spock raises his hand, his index and pointer finger extended. Slowly, afraid he might do something wrong, Jim raises his hand in a mirror of the gesture. Spock’s smile brightens and he brings his hand closer until their fingers are touching. Electricity shoots through Jim’s arm and he gasps quietly. He looks up into Spock’s eyes and feels overwhelmed with the affection he feels for this man. Hardly thinking, he tightens his grip on Spock’s fingers and uses his free hand to lead Spock’s face down gently until their lips meet. 

It’s Spock’s turn to gasp. By the way Spock’s fingers press harder into Jim’s, he’s sure their human kiss is sending similar electricity through Spock. Jim steps closer, trapping their hands between their chests. For a moment, he thinks he could drown in Spock. The world could end and he wouldn’t care because he was kissing Spock and it felt like his whole life he had been waiting for  _ this _ . For a thrilling moment, Jim wondered if that call he always felt towards Vulcan was Spock--was destiny asking him to find this wonderful man and never let him go. 

After what feels like eons but still not long enough, they part. Jim can’t help the smile that lights up his face as Spock smiles at him. They hardly break eye contact, even as Jim steps into his room and slowly closes the door.

Bones is going to kill him. 

And Jim swears it's worth it.


	7. Chapter 7

Jim can’t help the way his heart jumps in his chest when he catches Spock’s eye over breakfast the next morning. He nearly drops his spoon when Spock gently rubs his foot against Jim’s leg. Amanda sends him a strange look that Jim manages to wave off before sending Spock a stern look that loses all its heat when Jim’s lips curl into a smile.

With the encroaching rainy season, the desert has begun to lose some of its bite, allowing Spock to lead Jim outside where they can spend some time with I’Chaya. They take turns throwing a large ball for I’Chaya, standing close to each other and stealing fond glances as they wait for I’Chaya to return with the ball. Jim can hardly contain his joy when Spock intertwines their hands a few times. Under the fierce Vulcan suns, Jim wonders how he could ever be so lucky. 

Before he can throw the ball again, Jim’s eyes catch on the dark outline of someone slipping through the rocks and into the valley Spock called the Forge. He points them out to Spock, his gut warning him against something.

When Spock catches sight of the figure, he frowns. “That is T’Lai,” he says. “She knows better than to enter the Forge with the rains coming so soon.”

“What do you think she’s doing?” Jim asks, throwing the ball to keep I’Chaya distracted.

“I do not know,” Spock murmurs, “but I intend to find out.” 

Without any further warning Spock begins to march through the sands in pursuit of T’Lai. It takes Jim a moment to convince his legs to follow after Spock. Spock gives him a disapproving look over his shoulder that Jim answers with a charming smirk. 

They follow T’Lai from a distance. A couple times Jim feels his lungs threaten to rebel against him, but the thought of allowing Spock to head into the Forge to face some unknown danger gives him the strength to suck in the dry desert air and push himself forward. 

Jim has half a mind to thank T’Lai when she finally comes to a stop as the suns begin to reach their apex. Spock tugs him behind stones that litter the desert. They watch as T’Lai paces near the cliff face that marks the edge of the Forge. A few minutes pass before a group of figures appears from the desert. Spock leads them closer as a Vulcan steps forward to greet T’Lai. 

“We trust you have new information, T’Lai,” he says, his face hidden under his robes.

T’Lai shifts in the sand. “Only that the Federation captain is expected to return within the week, Elder.”

“And what of the lieutenant that plays Sarek into his hands?” he asks.

“He is hardly a threat,” T’Lai says, avoiding the Vulcan’s gaze. “He is preoccupied with the Ambassador’s son, Spock.”

The Vulcan steps closer and drops a hand on T’Lai’s shoulder. “That best be true, T’Lai. I’d hate to see what would happen to your esteemed sister if you brought us lies.”

“To lie when the truth would suffice would be illogical,” T’Lai says softly, her shoulders tense. 

The Vulcan elder stills. With a speed Jim has never seen before, the elder slaps T’Lai, the ringing of the contact echoing against the rocks. “You will not speak such heretics to me, T’Lai,” the Vulcan hisses. 

Next to him, Jim feels Spock tense. He grabs Spock’s wrist before he can move. “We’re no help if we get caught,” he hisses. Spock’s gaze measures him for a moment before he nods his assent and settles back next to Jim. 

Before them, the Vulcan elder releases T’Lai. “We will continue with our plans,” he says. “If you do not wish to meet the same fate as Sarek and his spawn, you will find yourself absent from his house in two days. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Elder,” T’Lai says softly.

Spock tugs Jim away from the group as they begin to disperse. But the heat and lack of water have caught up with Jim. He stumbles as they make their retreat and the next thing he knows he’s being dragged towards the Vulcan elder as Spock struggles against two other Vulcans. 

They are quickly bound and dumped before the Vulcan elder. From this angle, Jim is given a good look at his long graying hair and the swirling tattoo that crawls up his neck and side of his face. Jim flinches as the Vulcan touches a hand to Jim’s face. A sharp mental force touches his mind and Jim resists the urge to flinch away. “Ah,” he says as he retracts his hand, “the Federation boy.”

“You will unhand him,” Spock says, his voice low and fierce.

The Vulcan turns his attention to Spock. “And Sarek’s half-blood spawn. Already consorting with our conquerors, are we? What did he promise you? To show you the stars in exchange for being his _ kelek-aushfa _ ?”

“Don’t talk to him like that!” Jim growls, vainly struggling against the iron grip a Vulcan woman has on his arms. 

The elder turns to him, his gaze sharp. Sybok reminded Jim of a predator once, but Jim thinks for a moment that even Spock's brother would be cowed by the danger in this Vulcan’s eyes. His eyes catch on the glint of Jim’s anklet and the elder’s face sours. “You meddle in matters you don’t understand,  _ sanosh t’Spock _ ,” the elder hisses. He turns to T’Lai. “Our immediate plans have not changed. Fabricate some excuse for their absence and prepare for our move in two days.”

T’Lai gives them a desperate look and for a moment Jim thinks she might say something in their defense. But whatever they seem to be holding over her head seems to win and she agrees and quickly flees.

Figures move around him quickly and before Jim can process what’s being said around him, a hand pinches a nerve at the base of his neck and the world goes dark. 

* * *

_ Jim. _

His head is throbbing. 

_ Jim, please wake up. _

He feels like he’s floating but . . . that voice. He knows that voice. 

_ Jim, you must wake up! _

Jim comes awake with a gasp. He nearly crashes into Spock’s head as he sits up quickly. “Jim,” Spock says softly, “you must slow down. Breathe.”

Groaning, Jim sits up slowly until, with Spock’s help, he’s leaning against the brittle wood of their cell. “How long was I unconscious?” Jim asks.

“Eight hours, sixteen minutes, and forty-three seconds,” Spock says, settling his manacled hands back in his lap as he leans toward Jim’s side. 

Jim sighs. He takes in their cell. A small wooden structure and a tarp hides them from the Forge’s intense heat. The sand seeps into the folds of Jim’s borrowed robes, scratching roughly against his legs and threatening to climb farther. The suns are quickly setting and the light Jim relies on to see is fading. He leans into Spock and asks softly, “Did you get a look at how many guards there are?”

“I did,” Spock replies. “There are two guarding the entrance to our cell. I estimate up to four more are patrolling the perimeter.”

Jim nods. “And there are probably more that neither of us can see.”

“Indeed.”

With a heavy sigh, Jim allows himself to press his side into Spock’s until they are connected from shoulder to foot. “All we can do now is wait,” Jim says. 

Spock takes Jim’s hand clumsily in his own. “Are you certain that is the best course of action?”

“We don’t know what far away from your house we are,” Jim begins. “We also need more time to figure out how many guards we need to disarm. My training suggests we wait until we have more information to begin formulating an escape plan.”

Spock is silent for a moment. “That is logical,” he says finally.

Jim hums. His memory of their capture grows clearer as they bask in the quiet heat of their cell. “Spock,” Jim says quietly, “what did that elder call me?  _ Sanosh _ something?”

“ _ Sanosh t’Spock,”  _ Spock corrects him. “Literally it means ‘the pleasure of Spock.’ It was a dig at our relationship as signified by the anklet you wear.”

“I don’t mind being your pleasure,” Jim murmurs, relaxing into Spock’s side. He doesn’t mean to be suggestive, but he can’t really help himself. 

Spock’s grip on Jim’s hand tightens. “If you will permit me a moment of vulnerability, I must admit that it is gratifying that we are together in this.”

Even though Jim has just awoken, the rapidly cooling night air and the steady beat of Spock’s heart against his side quickly soothe Jim until his eyes are heavy and he can’t help but rest his head against Spock’s shoulder. The last thing he remembers is smiling into Spock’s shoulder and whispering, “There’s no one else I’d rather be kidnapped with.”

* * *

Jim awakes next to a Vulcan shoving a plate of food in his hands. 

As he takes in his surroundings, all he can feel is confusion. He struggles to remember where he is and how he got here. Then he sees Spock and his memories of the previous day come flooding back to him. Following T’Lai, getting caught, being thrown in a cell with Spock. 

He considers the food in his hands. He wonders, suddenly, if it could be poisoned. His chest tightens as panic creeps through him at the sight of Spock wordlessly bringing his own food to his lips. Spock catches his gaze and raises his eyebrow. Jim realizes then that Spock would know if their captors were likely to poison them. And if Spock was comfortable eating their food, Jim should be too. Besides, he needed every ounce of strength he had if they were going to escape their desert prison. 

They take turns listening for any sign of how many guards there are around them. Every murmured voice and shift in the sands has Jim on edge. His body is screaming at him to move, to run. He thanks whatever gods the Vuclans believe in that he has Spock here with him. He’s certain that without Spock’s calming presence Jim might have gone insane. 

The hours pass by. The suns rise in the sky, their heat pounding at Jim’s head. They are given water and it takes all of Jim’s training not to gulp the whole cup down. 

Despite his drink of water, Jim feels light headed. The walls spin around for a moment. Spock instructs him to sit down and Jim can’t help but giggle when Spock touches his arms.

“Jim,” Spock says, his voice heavy with concern, “please compose yourself.”

Jim forces himself to take a few measured, even breaths. He hadn’t realized how short of breath he had grown. 

Suddenly the symptoms he’s been experiencing are laid before his cleared mind. Bones sent him with tri-ox hypos for a reason--Vulcan has a lower oxygen level than Earth. Jim closes his eyes and leans against the wall of their cell. He needs to breathe. 

“I’ll be fine Spock,” he rasps. “My body just isn’t used to the oxygen levels of your world.”

He can almost feel Spock’s eyebrows furrow. “You were not experiencing these symptoms at our residence.”

Jim’s lips quirk. How observant of him. “My doctor sent me with tri-ox supplements and I haven’t had one since yesterday morning.”

“What can I do?” Spock asks. 

The hopelessness in his voice breaks Jim’s heart. He fumbles for Spock’s hand and strokes a clumsy kiss to his fingers. “I need to keep calm,” he says, “and drink water.”

Spock’s fingers tighten around his. “It will be alright, Jim.”

A smile ghosts Jim’s lips. “I know, Spock.”

He doesn’t want to, but the heat of the desert is quickly lulling him to sleep. 

But Spock is here. Spock won’t let anything happen to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kelek-aushfa - Vulcan for pet  
> sanosh t'spock - literally the pleasure of Spock; used here in a derogatory way


	8. Chapter 8

Spock spends their second day in their cell leading Jim through a series of meditative breathing techniques. Focusing on his breathing, Jim finds his mind clearing. Anxiety clings to the edges of his mind but at least now he isn’t obsessing over the possibility of poison in their water and food. Instead, he worries for Amanda and Sarek, at home and unaware of the danger that threatens them. 

The day passes slowly until, just after nightfall, the camp outside their cell bustles with movement and then grows silent. Jim meets Spock’s eyes and they seem to have come to a similar conclusion--their captors have moved out to make their strike against Sarek.

Jim meets Spock’s eyes and he can tell they’ve come to the same conclusion--their chance for escape is now.

Together, they manage to free their hands from their restraints. Leaning heavily on Spock, Jim manages to get his feet under him. He watches, partly professional and mostly appreciative, as Spock slips through the flap of their tent and silently disarms the guards. Carefully, Jim follows Spock out into the dark Vulcan night. Even with the sliver of light T’Khut reflects onto Vulcan’s sands, Jim finds himself blind in the darkness between the camp’s lights. His head spins as Spock leads him out of the camp, not from heat but at the emptiness he feels in his chest. 

He watches as Spock studies the stars above them and, perhaps growing delirious from the exertion, he raises a hand and traces the lines of Spock’s face. Spock’s eyes shoot to him. His expression softens as he takes Jim’s wandering hand in his own. “Focus on your breathing, Jim. We will make it,” he says softly, his words a hot brand to Jim’s will.

Jim nods and counts his breaths. Spock leads them through the slippery sands, ducking behind stones and sparse shrubs at the slightest sound of someone approaching. They seem to be making good time, if the quiet confidence in Spock’s eyes are anything to go on, but even with his meditative breathing, the gravity and oxygen levels of this planet are brutalizing Jim’s body. 

“Spock,” he gasps, tugging on the hand that still holds his own. 

Spock whips around to face him. “I will not leave you,” he says, and Jim remembers that he is a touch telepath. 

“You have to,” Jim whispers. “I’m slowing you down and you need to get home and protect your family.”

Spock’s grip on his hand tightens. “I will not leave you.” 

Jim’s heart threatens to burst in his chest. How he loves this foolish, loyal Vulcan. 

But before he can even try to convince Spock to do the  _ logical  _ thing, the rock they have stopped behind begins to move. As it rises to its feet, Jim realizes it’s not a rock at all, but a sehlat covered in sand. 

“I’Chaya?” Spock breathes. 

The sehlat shakes the sand from its fur and whines happily, shoving his nose into Spock’s chest. Spock laughs incredulously as he rubs at I’Chaya’s ears. “He must have followed us from the garden,” Spock says. 

Jim lets out his own relieved laugh as he leans against the beast. “Crazy thing,” he says fondly. 

Spock stares at him for a moment and the next thing Jim knows he’s been tossed onto I’Chaya’s back, Spock’s strong arms holding him in place as the Vuclan slips behind him. Jim grips I’Chaya’s furs tightly as Spock leans forward and says to the sehlat, “Take us home.”

* * *

I’Chaya seems to soar over the sand. 

It doesn’t take him long to reach the tall stone walls of the Forge and even less time to pick his way through the boulders and climb the sand dune that hides Sarek’s home from the Forge. 

The sight before them is gruesome. 

Amanda’s garden is littered with dueling Vulcans. It seems in their absence, Sarek has taken precaution and called reinforcements to his home. Vulcans battle in the sands, the dulled red bright with the green of their blood. Jim spares only a moment of surprise when he catches a glimpse of T’Lai fighting against their captors. 

Spock slides down I’Chaya’s side and steadies Jim as his feet feet the loose sand. “I’Chaya,” Spock says firmly, “find my mother.” The sehlat growls and shoves his head in Spock’s chest one last time before leaping down the dune. I’Chaya leaves stunned Vulcans in his wake as he picks through the fighting.

Jim meets Spock’s eyes. “I cannot persuade you to stand aside, can I?” Spock asks. 

Jim grins. “No way.” 

“Then stay close,” Spock says. 

And Jim does. Spock leads them down the dune into the fray, snatching up something that looks like a spear with a weight on the opposite end from a fallen Vulcan on their way. Jim grabs a dagger for himself and watches as Spock seems to dance through the fray. His long hair flies about as he twists and thrusts into his attacks. Danger haunts his beautiful face as he dances through the carnage. Jim keeps up as best he can, dodging desperate strikes. The elegance of Spock’s attack is only highlighted when Sybok tears through a wall of enemy fighters, roaring as he disarms them, blood strewn across his face and chest like the warpaint Jim saw him wear that first day he came to Vulcan. Sybok joins Spock in the fray, the vicious lion to Spock’s quiet adder. 

Following the brothers, they are soon in the thick of the fighting. Jim sees from the corner of his eye Sarek locked in battle with the Vulcan elder. They are an even match, meeting each other blow for blow in their deadly dance. Jim shoves away an attacking Vulcan when he sees something that makes his blood run cold. Behind Sarek, a lone Vulcan stands, watching the duel between the powerful old Vulcans. The Vulcan raises the bow in his hands and takes aim--at Sarek’s back. 

There’s no time to think. Jim grips the dagger as tight as he can in his weakened state and roars over the fighting, “Sybok, your father!” Without checking to see if Sybok has heard, Jim takes his own aim and flings his knife at the archer as hard as he can. The dagger is buried in the archer’s arm and his arrow flies far off its mark. The hair on Jim’s arms rise through the crust of sweat and sand as Sybok growls and rushes past him in pursuit of the archer. 

Jim surveys the battlefield. Sarek seems only a few blows away from disarming the Vulcan elder now that Sybok protects his back. Many of the dissidents have been subdued and disarmed. But behind him, Spock fights on. Jim feels his nerves rise as he realizes Spock is outnumbered but not out skilled. Still armed with his spear, Spock fends off his attackers with his feral grace. 

Time slows as Jim watches a Vulcan rise from the sands beyond the fight, unsheathing her sword. He realizes quickly that Spock will not be able to defend against the attack--he won’t see the Vulcan coming until it’s too late. And Jim is now unarmed. He can see only one option open to him. 

He rushes between Spock and the attacking Vulcan, grunting as her blade meets his gut. Teeth gritted, he breaks the Vulcan’s grip on her sword and shoves her away. Behind him, Spock shoves away his last attacker and whirls around, a snarl slipping from his throat as he takes the Vulcan down. 

The adrenaline that has kept Jim standing for so long seems to bleed out of his body. Strong arms catch him before he can tumble into the sand. “Jim,” Spock whispers as his face comes into view. He brushes some of Jim’s hair out of his face and Jim can’t help but smile at the tender affection in that touch. 

“Are you alright?” Jim manages. 

A quiet anger colors Spock’s face. “I am  _ fine, _ but you are not. Why would you do that, Jim?”

He fumbles blindly for Spock’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “Because I couldn’t watch you get hurt.” 

Spock squeezes his hand. “And now you’re hurt,” he says, his voice fraying with the emotion Jim swears he can feel crawling up his arm. The night grows dark at the edges of Jim’s vision. He’s about to pass out. He can’t remember if that’s a bad thing. Spock seems to notice this. “Jim,” he says urgently, “Jim, you can’t leave. Please, I love you. Stay with me.”

But the world grows quiet as Jim slips into the dark. 

* * *

When he wakes up, the air is blissfully cool and crisp in his lungs. He opens his eyes to the bright white lights of sickbay. For a moment, he wonders if the past week on Vulcan was a dream--a creation of his mind as he lay unconscious on one of Bones’ biobeds. Then he tries to sit up and his entire right side screams in pain. He touches the bandages that wrap his injury--the same he received on Vulcan. Relief rushes through him. 

Bones whisks through the privacy curtains. “Good you’re awake,” he barks, checking Jim’s vitals against his PADD. “Now I get to kill you myself.”

Jim cringes. “It was that bad?”

“Your injury?” Bones asks, setting down his PADD. “Not really. You were out for a couple days regaining your strength, but after I stitched your liver back together you were fine. No, your new watchdog was what made everything so complicated.” At his frown, Bones explains, “I think his name was Spock. Pike commed just after you passed out apparently. We beamed you and your Vulcan up immediately and he carried you into sickbay himself, all covered in your blood. Bastard hardly let anyone touch you until you half came to and called my name.” 

Jim flushes. “Sorry, Bones.”

Bones sighs and lowers himself into the chair next to Jim’s bed. “Just don’t scare me like that again, kid.”

Jim fumbles for Bones’s hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’ll do my best.” He gets a small smile and a roll of the eyes for that. 

The curtains shift again and Jim looks up, his heart stuttering as his eyes meet Spock’s. Spock stands by the curtain, his eyes glued to where Jim still holds Bones’s hand. Jim releases Bones’s hand and chuckles. “Hi, Spock.”

Spock’s eyes flick up to his face and Jim can practically feel the tension leave his body. “Jim,” Spock breathes.

Bones looks between them and gets up with a groan. “I’ll be back in an hour with your lunch, Jim.”

“Thanks, Bones,” Jim says absentmindedly, his attention fixed on Spock as he steps closer. 

Spock sits on the edge of Jim’s bed and takes his hand. Jim relishes in how warm and solid he is. Spock is real and he’s  _ here. _

“You saved my life,” Spock says softly, bringing Jim’s hand to his lips. 

“You would have done the same,” he replies, breathless at the tender caress. He thinks back to those moments he spent in the sand, cradled in Spock’s arms. His fingers tighten around Spock’s. “You love me?” he whispers as the memory returns to him. 

Spock smiles. “I do.”

Jim grins. “I love you, too. Isn’t that crazy?”

“Indeed,” Spock says, leaning forward and connecting their lips. 

As he pulls away, Jim lets the dopey smile he feels tug at his lips take over his face. He presses a kiss to the back of Spock’s hand. “Stay,” he whispers, trusting that Spock will understand.

Spock pauses, his hand tightening around Jim’s. “Your destiny,” he says hoarsely, “is to captain a starship.” 

“How can you know that?” Jim asks incredulously. 

Spock looks into his eyes, stealing Jim’s breath away just as effectively as he had the first time they’d met. “I see it in you. In your every action I see the compassion and dedication of a starship captain. It is your first, best destiny, Jim. Anything else would be a waste of material.” 

Jim swallows against the lump in his throat. He shifts closer to Spock, pressing a hand against the strong Vulcan heart that mirror’s his own wounds. He realizes, then, that if he hadn’t taken that strike for Spock, his friend-- _ his _ Vulcan--would be dead. “Then yours is to be by my side,” Jim breathes. “I can’t do it without you, Spock.” 

“You can,” Spock assures him, “and you will.” 

Jim picks up his head and stares at his companion. He sits up, ignoring the lingering pain from his injury. “Is that really what you want, Spock? To stay here and play babysitter to a bunch of grumpy Vulcans?”

Spock ducks his head. “It is not. But it is where I am needed. Logic demands--”

“No!” Jim cries. “Don’t hide behind logic. Just this once, Spock, think about what you want. What you need. Where will  _ you  _ be happiest?”

Their eyes meet and Jim swears the entire universe is holding its breath. As if Spock’s response will shape how the rest of the universe will construct itself. How the rest of time will play out. And as Spock squeezes his hand, Jim believes it. 

“With you,” Spock says quietly. “I would be happiest wherever you are.” 

Jim can’t fight the tears now. 

“Then come with me.” His voice breaks. “You could soar through the Academy and get a posting on the  _ Enterprise _ . With me.”

Spock raises a hand and wipes away Jim’s tears. He brings their foreheads together and, for a moment, they simply bask in each other’s company. Finally, Spock says, “That would be nice, Jim. Do you think Captain Pike would be willing to help?”

* * *

_ Two Years Later _

“Would you stand still for one minute,” Bones gripes. “Your shuffling won’t bring him here any faster.” 

Jim can only grin at him. 

It’s been months since Jim has seen Spock in person and now he’s  _ finally _ starting his commission after being posted aboard the  _ Enterprise.  _

The transporter pad hums and Spock quickly materializes before them, stunning in his pristine science blues. Jim hops up and wraps his arms around Spock’s neck, his strong arms immediately finding their home at Jim’s waist. A yeoman takes Spock’s bags and quietly lets him know he’s taking them to his room, but they hardly notice. What’s there to see when Spock’s  _ here _ . 

“Alright, enough of this romantic nonsense,” Bones cuts in. “We’re gonna be late to his welcoming party.”

Jim laughs and untangles himself from Spock’s arms. “Alright, we’re coming. Calm down, Bones.”

“It is good to see you again, Doctor,” Spock says, stepping down from the transporter pad. 

Bones grunts. “It’s okay to see you, too, I guess.”

They head down the hall and quickly come upon the rec room where Uhura and Christine Chapel, one of Bones’ nurses, have set up Spock’s welcoming party. Jim’s friends, from Uhura on the bridge to Scotty down in engineering, let out a cry as Spock enters the room, all familiar with him from serving with Jim. 

(Bones once said they were all looking forward to Spock’s arrival just so Jim would quit pining over him whenever they hung out.)

Spock effortlessly glides into the room and begins to mingle with Jim’s friends--his family. And the realization hits Jim so hard he has to take a step back for a moment.

As Jim takes in the sight of his friends welcoming Spock to the ship, a little bit of his soul that had always been restless finally begins to settle. He will probably never be content with stillness--he was made for exploration among the stars. But for perhaps the first time in his life, Jim knew he would be okay. Because everything he needed was here--Spock, Bones and his friends, and his ship (and the  _ Enterprise _ would be his one day). 

So he takes one last look at his friends and drinks in the way Uhura charms her new crewmate and how Bones is already gearing up for another debate with Spock. He breathes in the sense of  _ rightness  _ at the sight of Spock--with his still long hair (he wouldn’t cut it until they were bonded) and his bright smile already at home among these people Jim loved. He takes it all in and smiles, slapping Bones’ shoulder and wrapping an arm around Spock’s waist. 

He was home. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! let me know what you think <3


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